


Darling pup

by Akikofuma



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom!Jaskier, Established Relationship, Geralt is a very good puppy, M/M, One-Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Rough Oral Sex, Subdrop, Teasing, sub!geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akikofuma/pseuds/Akikofuma
Summary: “N-no,” Geralt immediately replied. “Please, I can be good-”“I know you can, sweet thing,” Jaskier quickly interrupted, his voice gentling at the Witcher’s distraught whimpers. “You’ve been a good boy all day, waiting for me all tied up, so nice and pretty..” His words tapered off, a thoughtful expression on the musicians face. “Well. I think I can forgive your little transgression-”-------
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	Darling pup

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. I felt like writing porn, and thought: Why not give Sub!Geralt a try? Heh. Hope you guys enjoy it <3

“Patience, pet.” Jaskier hummed, much to Geralt’s distress. The bards large cock was so close to his face, if he could just lean forward - yet the ties that Jaskier had wrapped around his body held firm, not budging even as Geralt struggled to move forwards. 

“Please,” the Witcher whined, golden eyes fixed intently on the cock before him. He wanted to wrap his lips around it, to feel the weight on his tongue, to taste the bards seed, have Jaskier fuck his face until his throat was sore - anything but the torture of being so close, but not  _ quite  _ close enough. If he stuck out his tongue, maybe he could lap at the very tip, gather some of Jaskier’s precious pre-come and swallow it, lessen the ache he felt- he was acting on the thought before he could stop himself.

A slap echoed through the silent night.

“Bad puppy,” Jaskier chided, pressing his thumb against the Witcher’s cheek he’d just struck. “What did I tell you about waiting, hm? Being  _ patient _ ?” 

“‘m sorry,” Geralt whined, feeling not a lick of shame at his desperate behavior, the pathetic sounds dripping from his lips. He’d been hard for what had to be hours, his cock dribbling seed onto the floor continuously, forming a puddle on the stone floor. Kneeling, with his legs spread wide, arms tied securely behind his back, ankles tied together, there was no way he could move on his own, act on his desires to throw the bard to the ground and ravish him. Forced to sit and wait until Jaskier decided he’d been good, and deserved a reward. It was torment, and yet it was so incredibly  _ sweet,  _ so incredibly  _ arousing _ . 

“I was going to fuck you tonight, puppy,” Jaskier sighed, casually stroking his length as he spoke, gathering the fluid at its tip to slick along the heated skin. “But I can’t reward a naughty pup now, can I?” 

“N-no,” Geralt immediately replied. “Please, I can be good-”

“I know you can, sweet thing,” Jaskier quickly interrupted, his voice gentling at the Witcher’s distraught whimpers. “You’ve been a good boy all day, waiting for me all tied up, so nice and pretty..” His words tapered off, a thoughtful expression on the musicians face. “Well. I think I can forgive your little transgression-” 

“Thank you,  _ thank you _ -” Geralt breathed, massive thighs trembling both from exertion and excitement. 

“Ah, not so fast, puppy,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a finger to Geralt’s lower lip. “You’ll be forgiven, darling, but you have to be good for me first. Can you do that for me, pet? Be a good boy for your owner?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Geralt quickly agreed, eager to please, grateful to be given another chance - his owner was so kind, so gentle. No matter how many times he fucked up, Jaskier never gave up on him. 

“Thank you, dearheart,” Jaskier beamed, those blue eyes shining with pride. “I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours now. If you can be good and take everything I give you, I’ll let you fuck me as a reward. How does that sound, puppy?” 

Words were too hard to find then, and all Geralt could manage was a high-pitched keen, hoping it would be enough to move things along. He was burning up, blood boiling in his veins, his cock and balls aching to be touched, aching for relief - but he was a good boy. Good boys didn’t come until they were given permission. Geralt could wait.

“That’s my good boy,” Jaskier praised, urging the Witcher's mouth open. “Not going to be gentle, darling. But that’s just fine with you, isn’t it? My pretty cock slut. You’ll just be glad to have one of your holes filled.” 

Before Geralt could reply, Jaskier thrust his cock forward, sheathing himself inside the tight heat without so much as a warning. Geralt gagged, eyes watering at the rough treatment, only to moan wantonly when the bard pulled back.

“So needy,” Jaskier admonished fondly, giving a few shallow thrusts that had Geralt whining for more. “You’re beautiful like this, puppy. So desperate for my cock, like a bitch in heat.”

Pleasure raced up Geralt's spine, groaning loudly at the very idea - god, he’d love to be a bitch in heat. Have Jaskier mount him from behind, fuck him hard and rough, fill him up until he was round with it- 

“Oooh, my puppy likes that idea, hm?” Jaskier cooed, obviously delighted. “You want to be bred, darling? Have a tummy full of pups?” 

Geralt nodded as best he could, trembling as the bard shoved his big cock back into the Witcher’s throat. Finally, Jaskier looked to be losing control as well, panting as he spoke, as he fucked Geralt’s face hard.

“I’d breed you up real good, puppy, fuck you for days til you’re begging me to stop -  _ fuck  _ \- plug you up to keep it in, make sure it c-catches - fuck, sweetheart, good boy, taking me so well, good boy, good puppy-” 

Geralt preened at the praise, paid no attention to his aching jaw, or his throbbing cock - none of it was important to him, none of it  _ mattered _ , as long as he was pleasing his owner, pleasing Jaskier- 

“Fuck!” Jaskier cursed as he emptied himself down Geralt’s throat, thrusting erratically until he was spent. The poet's arms had come to rest against Geralt’s shoulder, legs shaking as he fought to stay upright. “Gods, no one makes me come like you do, dearheart. Did so well, puppy.” 

Pride surged through Geralt so forcefully, he almost toppled over himself. No one made Jaskier feel this good, could please him the way Geralt could, make him come as hard as Geralt did. Only him. 

Moments passed as Jaskier’s cock softened between the Witcher’s lips, both of them too content to move just yet. Geralt was floating, mind gone hazy as he kneeled, feeling almost as if he’d been wrapped in cotton. Nothing mattered in his world but Jaskier. He had no monsters or humans to worry about, no disaster he had to prevent, no life he had to save - all he had to do was sit still and be good for his owner. He’d never felt this free, this light, until Jaskier had introduced him to this kind of play. 

Now, Geralt could scarcely go a week without it. 

He came back to himself slowly. By the time he opened his eyes - when had they fallen shut? - he was laid out on the bed, stomach up, with Jaskier beside him. Strong hands were massaging his aching arms and legs, pressing deep into the muscle to ease any tension. Jaskier was humming a song he’d written just for these occasions; a soft, sweet little melody that Geralt found rather soothing. 

“Back with me?” Jaskier asked, lips curled into a soft smile. 

“Yeah,” Geralt grunted in reply. “Did I-” The words were still hard to say sometimes.

“Dropped? Yes, darling, you did. Right after I came. You did so well for me today , sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” Jaskier reached over the bed, grabbing hold of a waterskin, holding it to Geralt's lips. “There you go, dearheart, drink as much as you want. Your throat must be sore.” 

“‘s fine,” Geralt rumbled once he’d quenched his thirst. Secretly, he relished all the little aches and pains their play brought with it. Another way to remember those precious moments where he could let go, put himself in Jaskier’s hands with complete and utter certainty that no harm would come to him. He was safe. 

“Didn’t even get your reward,” Jaskier chuckled, gently scraping his nails against the Witcher’s scalp, pulling forth a rumbling purr from deep within Geralt’s chest. It took a moment before Geralt even remembered what reward the bard was talking about. 

“Don’ need it,” he rumbled, one arm wrapped around the poet’s middle as Geralt pulled him down into their bed. His cock had gone soft by now, no longer demanding release despite having been denied climax. “Unless you want it.” Truth be told, he was exhausted - these sessions always left him feeling boneless, like a puddle of happiness and content - but if Jaskier wanted to be fucked…

“No, puppy,” Jaskier replied, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s lips. “I’m perfectly happy. Couldn’t ask for a better, sweeter pet than you, always so good to me. Now get some rest, my love. You’ve earned it.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, Geralt quickly fell into a deep sleep. 

  
Fully believing, if only for a little while, that he was  _ good _ . 


End file.
